


The White Shores

by queen_of_iceni



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Post-Lord of the Rings, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:33:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 7,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25170931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_of_iceni/pseuds/queen_of_iceni
Summary: Aragorn is the King of Gondor, and his wife, Arwen, has given up immortality for him. Something restless stirs in her, however, and Aragorn strives to find her cure. Along the way, he runs into an old elf friend and finds something there that he does not expect.This is based on the movie lore. While I am an avid reader of the books, the movie story was better story for my story than the book (real) plotline. That being said, I hope even the fans of the books can enjoy the Aragorn/Legolas slash.DISCLAIMER: I don't own this at all. Aragorn and Legolas DEF would've gotten together if I did
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Legolas Greenleaf
Comments: 6
Kudos: 78





	1. I Had Never Known

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! This is the first story I've posted on AO3... I've posted some on Wattpad but I think I've graduated :) That being said, I'm just putting up the whole story so no wait necessary. Thanks for investing time in this story!

Aragorn sat on his throne, the cold, hard metal pressed against the underneath of his legs. He hated the throne, hated it with every fiber of his being - but the people, the kingdom it represented was worth every second of this torture. He shifted, his muscles protesting. Perhaps not every minute.

"My king," Faramir bowed before Aragorn, but when he straightened, he was beaming, "Lady Arwen is here to see you."

"Out of her room?" Aragorn asked, hope alighting over his features.

"Yes, but you must understand, Your Majesty," Faramir said hesitantly, "She is still not well."

Aragorn's face settled back into its grim surveillance as his wife glided into the throne room. Her face, which had once held so much youth and joy, now stood in a weary pose. The dresses she wore were the same beautiful fabric of her elfin years, the same flowing color, but instead of gazing shyly yet infinitely wiser than any man, she looked tired and so, so sad. Aragorn dismissed Faramir with a wave of his hand, only bidding him to wish Eowyn a good day before rushing to her side. She had not left her room in three weeks - ever since their child had been a stillborn. He opened his mouth to comfort her, but before he could say anything, she spoke. Her tone, which had once been so loving and kind when directed towards Aragorn, was now distant.

"He died," she said, not meeting Aragorn's eyes. "I had never known death till my child."

"His soul will rest with my fathers," Aragorn said gently, "He will be loved."

"No," Arwen said, her teeth gritting, "No, his soul will not rest anywhere. He is not at peace, and I do not know how to stop it. I had never known death till my child."

"He is at peace," Aragorn continued, his voice soft, though his eyes held tears. "I can feel it in my bones. It is you, my love, who is not at peace."

"Do not call me love," the words were practically spit at him. "When you did not tell me how hard it would be to bear the cost of mortality. I had never known death till my child."

"Darling, our lives may be mortal, but that makes them ever the more precious," Aragorn tried to find soothing words in him, though his mind was swirling with hurt. "Our unknown child is safe with my ancestors, and our future ones will be safe with us."

"I am never taking that risk again," Arwen was crying, but her tears were silent as they traced paths down her cheeks. Aragorn longed to reach out and brush them from her face, but her eyes were as cold as ice. "No more children, Aragorn. No more queenship. No more mortality. I had never known death till-"

"Your child," Aragorn finished the sentence, his heart turning to lead in his chest. "He is not your child, Arwen. He is our child. Do you think I do not feel the sting of his loss as keenly?"

"You feel the loss of your heir," her voice felt like poison. "Not your child. Mortals do not feel death as I do. They see it as normal - inevitable, even."

"It is inevitable when you are mortal, Arwen," Aragorn could not feel anymore. His mind had stopped processing what was happening around him. Her face fell into the statue-like gaze once again, and Aragorn could feel any hope at all slipping away from him.

"Arwen-" he reached for her, but she pulled back.

"Then I shall not be mortal." Before Aragorn could tell her that she was, that there was no going back, she turned and walked purposefully away. Right before she stepped out of the throne room, she looked back at Aragorn, and there was nothing of the woman he loved when she said,

"I had never known death till my child."


	2. The Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand we're introducing Legolas and Gimli...along with a little romance-ishness. hope you enjoy them :)

Legolas sat stiffly, his back aching. Gimli was supposed to return an hour ago, before the day faded into darkness. He was still not back, and even Legolas' elf eyes could not catch glimpse of any dwarf. He thought he heard the distant crash of a dwarf, but it must have been a deer or some other such animal since no Gimli came roaring out of the trees.

The moon had hung overhead for two more hours before he heard the groan of his companion and the loud crash of metal on metal. Gimli came panting up the hill, gasping and cursing in one breath.

"Dwarves are not made for the steep paths of the Mirkwood elves," he muttered, then let out a foul curse that Legolas smiled to hear.

"I am sorry for the inconvenience," Legolas did not keep the jest from his voice, "But you were beginning to appear rather useless on my journey."

"Of course I'm useless on a journey to the Mirkwood elves, Legolas," Gimli grunted, but he swung himself over the log next to Legolas and gazed out at the wood before them. "Do you think your father will welcome your company?"

Legolas had tried avoiding the topic as long as possible, but it seemed that his father would stay away from his thoughts no longer.

"My father hates me - if it is not hate, it is intense dislike," he said quietly, "I would not expect a warm greeting, my friend."

"Then why are we traveling into his realm?" Gimli grumbled, "And into his throne room itself?"

Legolas' grin returned. Only the dwarf could turn a sad tale into a chance to complain.

"We need his help," Legolas reminded him, "They are the only elves left to answer the call."

"I still think the call thing is a load of Warg dung," Gimli removed his helmet, his face sweaty and red, and lit his pipe. "Explain it to me again."

"It does not get more believable the more you hear it," Legolas sighed, but he repeated what he had said many times. "When an elf is about to perform dark, forbidden magic, they send out a pulse into this world, that only other elves can feel. This is in case another Orc is about to be... created. I felt it, for the first time in a long time. So we are traveling to the last known elves to find out which one is responsible for such treachery against the light."

"And the tale we use to cover up our purpose?" Gimli asked gruffly.

"I will use no tale," Legolas looked at him, apalled, "I will tell my father only the truth, as all elves should."

"Bloody elves," Gimli moaned, but he said no more before he lay down to sleep. A few minutes later, Gimli's snores filled the grove, but Legolas sat awake, thinking only of the tasks ahead. Only the sounds of the wind and a few night life creatures could keep him company in these strange, early hours. The stars glittered brilliantly above, and in his bones Legolas could feel the call homewards, as he always had. These woods were as familiar to him as his bow and arrow - the years he had spent lazily wandering in it with Tauriel were etched into his mind. 

Then another crept into his thoughts - a deep secret that Legolas had sworn never to share, and never to think of. He had trouble with that promise this night, though, as Aragorn's beautiful face drifted up out of his dreams to lovingly smile at Legolas, and gently kiss him.


	3. The Book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter three! I'm thinking of uploading two a day, since all I have to do is edit them. This means that they will all be up within a week. Thank so much to the people who have already started reading... you mean the world to me. Now we move on to the plot aspect of the story and some Arwen-filled drama

Aragorn rubbed his temples, his eyes drifting to the stark white city before him. There was no doubt that Minis Tirith was beautiful, but Aragorn longed to gallop across the surrounding lands of Gondor and feel the wind once again across his face.

"My king," Eowyn did not even bother to bow. He sent her a smile, but it was forced across his face. She must have noticed the tenseness in his features, but she mercifully did not comment. "Thranduil sends word. He will join the meeting."

Aragorn looked with surprise at her. He had truly not expected Thranduil to accept, though he had invited him with his most flowery language.

"In fact, he offers up his home as a venue," Eowyn continued cautiously. Aragorn contained a mirthless laugh.

"So that is the game he is playing," he nodded, "Very well. We will follow his rules. Send word to the others that the place has been changed."

"Aragorn," Eowyn's voice was soft, "How is Lady Arwen?"

Aragorn turned to her, his face softening at her earnest expression, "She is not alright, Eowyn. And I do not know how to make her so. I will bring her with me on this journey - perhaps she will then feel better once she is surrounded by her kin."

"They are no longer her kin," Eowyn said.

"She does not realize that," Aragorn gazed back out over his city, "She does not know."

The ride to Mirkwood was long, but Aragorn appreciated every second of it. Hasufel galloped swiftly across the even terrain, leaving the party of Arwen, two of her handmaiden's, and Eomer behind. Aragorn tried to let the wind sweep away any dark thoughts, but the persistant ache of his heart would not fly away on the swift breeze that passed him. That night, though, he fell exhausted onto his bed rolls and slept a merciful, dreamless night for the first time in a very long time.

It took them three days to arrive, and it seemed eons went by before the trees of Mirkwood graced the skies above them. The ride up to the castle was silent save for the birds that twittered. Eomer was clearly nervous about meeting the elves for the first time, especially when Aragorn informed him that Thranduil and his elves were not as kind as Legolas. He had forgotten to mention that Thranduil was Legolas' father, and hoped against all hope it would not be brought up in this meeting.

The elves welcomed them in a courtly enough fashion, paying special heed to the needs of Lady Arwen, who seemed slightly rejuvenated. They were led into their rooms, though they caught no sight of Thranduil or any other highly important elves.

Aragorn took a deep breath. Tonight, he and his wife would share a room for the first time in two fortnights. He entered the chamber and cast off his light riding cloak, using the end to mop some sweat off his face. His hair lay somewhat limp across his face, though Arwen had several times told him that the restless, wild look suited him. Now, however, he decided that perhaps he should clean himself before joining her in bed - just to sleep. When he reemerged from the bathroom, however, a haunting scene met his eyes.

Arwen was murmuring quietly, her eyes fixated on a large book sprawled across her lap. The book was large and bound with shimmering, golden cloth, the clasp of bone lying open. A faint sheen was glimmering on her skin, and a faint white glow filled the room, the edges a biting grey. The language she was muttering was elfish, and yet strangely not, the vowels disappearing and the sounds harsher. It was almost -

"Orcish," Aragorn breathed, "Arwen, you cannot!"

She tore her eyes away from the book, the sprawling script now menacing, and stared unseeingly at him. Aragorn leapt for the book and tore it away from her hands, slamming the bone-clasp shut with a loud click. She collapsed on the bed, all the light vanishing from the room. Aragorn scooped her body up and ran for the door.


	4. Once-Elf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have always been a sucker for the Legolas and Thranduil making up dynamic and I shamelessly play into that here. I just want them to be a happy family, sue me. This chapter was solely to sooth my own unhappiness at their long separation, but hopefully it still pleases you

Legolas did not bother to protest as the guards roughly dragged him into the entrance. He could hear their distaste at him traveling with a dwarf and knew they had absolutely no idea who he was - that he was a part of the Fellowship of the Ring, or that he was the lost prince of Mirkwood.

"Lego-" Gimli began, as a particularly mean elf prodded his side with the feathered side of his arrow.

"Shush," Legolas hissed quickly, begging Gimli to understand with his eyes. If his father knew that it was him that was caught wondering his lands, he might kill Legolas without a second thought, before hearing his story. Their hands were bound - thick rope around Gimli's pudgy wrists and a shimmering twine around Legolas' pale hands. The guards forced them to their knees, and Legolas thought he heard a distinctive cackle.

"They seem more orc than elf," Gimli complained.

"That's what I'm worried about," Legolas replied quietly. "Are you ready to meet my father? Let me do the speaking, I implore you."

"Ah, fine," Gimli groused, "But I don't like it when elves insult our kind."

"I know, friend, I know," Legolas wished to place a reassuring hand on the dwarf's shoulder, but he could not, "Just this once."

"So this is the reckless elf whose been playing around with dark magic," Thranduil swept into the room. Legolas' heart almost stopped. Seeing his father brought back a torrent of memories, not only bad. His father used to be kind, and good, and fun. After Tauriel had become a part of Legolas' life, however, he had grown more distant and mean - until he had almost banished Legolas.

_Your mother loved you._

_Do you, Ada? Do you?_

Tharduil still had not noticed Legolas, still had not set his eyes upon him, "And I hear he travels with a dwarfish friend. How wonderful."

He could tell his father's eyes would sweep over him in less than a second, that they would lose the element of surprise, so he forced himself to speak.

" _Ada_ ," his voice was hoarse, and soft. The word felt unused in his mouth, but it was a beautiful feeling to again use it. " _Ada_."

Thranduil turned completely, his eyes widening in shock. He mouthed the words, 'Leave us,' and though no sound came out, the guards nearly ran from the room. Tears formed little droplets in the corners of his eyes as he gaped at Legolas, not even breathing. Then with a gasp, he let out a sob, rushed at Legolas, and grabbed him. The hug was breathtakingly tight. Thranduil did not even bother to appear collected as he gasped,

"My son. _Legolas_. You have come _home_. _Mui réd_."

"I told you that your mother loved you," Thranduil began, still searching for air, "I did not tell you that I feel the same. I did not even _know_ till you left. _Díhen- nin, anon._ "

"Of course, _Ada_ ," Legolas could not deny that his eyes were begin to wetten as well. Even the dwarf was not dry-eyed. Thranduil couldn't bring himself to stop holding his son for many minutes to come.  
  
  


"If you are not the elf that has been performing dark magic, then who is?" Thranduil pondered, while personally removing the bonds from both Legolas and Gimli. He seemed reluctant to talk with Gimli in the room, but Legolas had convinced him that Gimli was a friend and, as Thranduil himself put it, he had once worked with dwarves before.

"That is what I came to your court to investigate," Legolas admitted, somewhat sheepishly.

"You think the rest of the elves could not feel the call?" Thranduil asked, amusement coloring his voice, "I have looked through each of my elves. Each magic is as light as before."

"Then all the elves are accounted for," Legolas said.

"Not all," Thranduil said, his face grave. "What if a once-elf performed this magic? Would we feel it?"

Legolas felt as though they were back in his lessons, his _Ada_ teaching him the workings of the world. It was not an unpleasant feeling. "I do not know, _Ada_. We do not have any once-elves."

"We have one," Thranduil said grimly.

"Arwen," Legolas breathed, just as Aragorn burst in through the throne room doors.  
  
  


 _Ada -_ father

 _Mui réd -_ my son

 _Díhen- nin, anon -_ Forgive me, son


	5. Falling Into Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally they're going to meet. This is still a little Arwen-centered, but at least they see each other... lol I can't believe I'm controlling this story and it still took this long for them to meet although some might say the story is controlling me since it just flowed out with no input from my own brain

Aragorn's heart nearly stopped when he saw Legolas standing in the chamber. The blonde elf was caked with grime and looked weary, yes, but Aragorn had forgotten how utterly gorgeous he was. His blue eyes shone fiercely out from his sharp face, his gleaming hair pulled back from the high cheekbones in its usual style.

"Aragorn," Legolas' voice was almost a breath, but the way his name caressed the syllables was enough to send a surge of heat through Aragorn.

"Legolas," he had not bargained for his voice to go so low and rough, but from the way Legolas' eyes darkened, he did not mind.

"I'm here too, King," Gimli said, and there was a definite pout in his voice.

"Gimli," Aragorn greeted as warmly as he could without tearing his eyes from Legolas.

"Are you going to let Lady Arwen stay collapsed in your arms or will you bring her to me?" Thranduil's voice was as cold as ever, but Aragorn could see the trace of tears on his normally stone face.

Aragorn lugged her up to the Elvenking, her body growing especially heavy when he passed Legolas. Thranduil placed a hand on her forehead and recoiled, black magic following his fingertips. Legolas nimbly leapt up to the throne and touched Arwen's hand gently. His face contorted, but he did not draw away. He stayed, face twisted, in that position till Aragorn removed the elf's hand with his own. As usual, Legolas' hand was soft and smooth. Aragorn had had a crush on the elf when he was younger (he had always been aware that he like both men and women) but nothing compared to the feelings surging through him.

 _It has to be that I have not seen him in a long while,_ Aragorn thought hopelessly. _I love Arwen beyond all other._

Thranduil was looking at him curiously, and he quickly released Legolas' hand.

"What is it?" Aragorn asked anxiously. "What did you see?"

"Her soul is so far gone," Legolas said quietly, "There is hardly any elf left in her at all."

Aragorn let out a curse, guilt dropping in his chest, "Can we - I - save her?"

"If so little of her is elf, it will need a miracle to save her," Thranduil said wisely.

"We don't have miracles in Middle Earth!" Aragorn said desperately. "Isn't there some magic I can do? I would sacrifice my life for hers in an instant!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew it was not true. It was not that he didn't love her - but he had an entire kingdom to run. Did he truly love her then? Was this selfish clinging to life his hearts way of telling him that he had moved on? He chanced a glance at Legolas, but for some reason the elf was pointedly not looking at him. _Of course he is not_ , Aragorn scolded himself, _You are a human friend. Nothing less, nothing more_.

"Not in Middle Earth, no," Thranduil said, and his voice felt like poisoned honey.

"So it is hopeless," Aragorn could feel a single tear trace its way down his cheek. "She will become evil, and we will have to..."

He could not say it.

"There is a boat leaving for the Undying Lands in three days," Thranduil's eyes closed, as if he were betraying a great secret, "It will carry with it Gandalf the Grey, Elrond, Galadriel, Bilbo Baggins, and Frodo Baggins."

" _Frodo_?" Aragorn asked, aghast, "But he did not say-"

"Some wounds do not heal easily, Aragorn," Legolas said, his voice still soft. "He has made his choice - what is best for him."

"Are you saying the Arwen should go with him?" Gimli steered the conversation back.

"Is that possible?" Aragorn asked. "She gave me the Evenstar, is there a chance I can return it?"

Thranduil let out a laugh that had no humor in it, "Oh, king, she could take it easily. She could leave on this boat easily. She stays because of _you_."

The words sounded eerily familiar.

"She does not love me anymore," Aragorn said, his words remorseful.

"Then why was she searching for a way to make herself immortal in Middle Earth?" Thranduil asked.

"She did not even think of the possibility-" Aragorn began, but Legolas cut in, his voice like steel.

"Aragorn, she was not only searching for a way to make herself immortal. She was searching for a way to make you live forever, too."


	6. Asleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some thranduil/legolas bonding here... and some angst... and kind of fluff?? not really, but I think its cute. Again, this chapter just sort of happened. I don't know how, but I'm a sucker for someone comforting the other
> 
> ALSO: I literally have no clue about Sindarin or how the grammar/words work, i just plugged it into an online translator. if I spelled anything wrong (in this chapter and any other) please let me know because I want this story to be as accurate as possible but I'm afraid I'm not dedicated enough to learn the language

"You love him," there was no question in Thranduil's voice. Aragorn had carried Arwen despondently back to their chambers, and Gimli had tactfully excused himself (though tact was not a trait that the dwarf often displayed). Legolas had lied so much and hidden the secret so deeply, but it was beginning to tear a hole in him.

"Yes," he said simply. "But he loves Arwen. And I would never hurt either one of them."

"Arwen will leave soon," Thranduil said, "He will grieve for her, and search for love. He could find it in you." 

"I will not take advantage of his sadness to plant the seeds of manipulation in his vulnerable mind!" Legolas protested. Thranduil sighed.

"I know, _anon_ , I know. But you must tell him how you feel eventually."

"Will Arwen leave, do you think?" Legolas turned the conversation away from his breaking heart. He knew that his father noticed the change of pace, but he thankfully did not comment.

"If Aragorn convinces her to," Thranduil said thoughtfully, "She is still a good person, Legolas. She just strayed down the wrong path. Now we are pulling her back."

"It has consequences, though," Legolas said.

"Every choice has consequences, some are just more easily visible than others," Thranduil leveled his eyes at Legolas, and the elf had a feeling that _Ada_ was no longer talking about Arwen.

"I must sleep, _Ada_ ," Legolas said softly, "I cannot think about Aragorn any longer."

"Even the way you say his name conveys love," Thranduil smiled sorrowfully at his son, "Sleep, my little leaf, and think over what I have said in the morning."

Legolas kissed his father's cheek.

"I will, _Ada_ , I will."  
  
  


Legolas' return to his chambers was long and arduous. He tried to force thoughts of Aragorn from his mind, but with no other problem on hand it was becoming increasingly difficult. He changed, bathed, and slipped into bed, attempting to sleep. After a few minutes, he heard his chamber door creak open. He sat bolt upright, already reaching for his bow when he realized that it was Aragorn.

Only Aragorn. _Stop the fluttering feeling in your stomach_ , Legolas chided himself. It did not subside, but he did his best to ignore it.

"I cannot sleep with her beside me," Aragorn softly, "I did not know where else to turn."

Legolas could nearly feel his heart ripping to shreds. He had a bond of friendship so strong with Aragorn that he could say, 'I love you,' and the king would not know he meant it in more than that way.

"Come, sleep in my chambers," he moved aside, surreptitiously brushing a tear from his eye. His heart felt heavy enough to drag him back into the bed, and it was all he could do to keep from screaming. Aragorn hesitated.

"Are you sure, _mellon nin_?" Aragorn asked, turning to the door, "I can leave if-"

"No!" Suddenly, that prospect seemed much worse to Legolas, more so when he saw the despair in Aragorn's eyes. Aragorn gratefully slid in between the silken sheets next to Legolas. They lay awkwardly on opposite ends of the bed until Aragorn spoke.

"Is it my fault, Legolas?" the way he breathed the elf's name made him inadvertently shudder.

"Arwen? No, Estel, how could you say so?" The reversion to Aragorn's old name had not been intended, but by the way his breathing slowed, he knew he had made a good choice.

"I should have stopped her earlier, seen something was wrong, _Legolas_ ," he promptly burst into tears. His rasping sobs echoed around the chamber as the bed shook with his gasps. Despite knowing that he'd regret it later, Legolas reached out to him and drew the crying king against his side. Aragorn curled into him, sobs still wracking his body. Legolas carded his hands through Aragorn's hair and whispered sweet nothings to him until the king fell asleep.

With a softly slumbering Aragorn in his arms, Legolas felt more at home than he ever had in his entire life.

 _He is here for comfort about his dying wife_ , Legolas thought, then hopelessly added, _But he is here_. _He chose me._

And though the thoughts should not be swirling around Legolas' mind, he let darkness take him with his body wrapped firmly around his love.


	7. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmaooo, even with the story written I'm shitty with updates. Oh well, here it is. Finally, finallllyyyy, this story starts to get a move on in terms of current relationships breaking and new, better relationships forming. Well, you obviously came here for the arolas, and I will deliver. Soon. But this chapter starts that so here we are. Enjoy

The next day, the two men did not speak of this incident. Legolas was gone before Aragorn awoke, and he avoided eye contact with Aragorn as much as possible. While it was somewhat a relief - Aragorn did not want to remember his moment of weakness, his horrible sobs- it also sparked a burning feeling in his stomach. The Legolas he knew would never turn away from a man because they had shown emotion. However, there were more pressing matters on hand. Arwen had awoken, and was currently pacing the room that she and Aragorn were supposed to share. Thranduil stood stiffly by the window while Eomer stood guard by the door.

"My love, please stop worrying," Aragorn was sitting on the bed, forehead creased with wrinkles.

"I will when you do," she said, and though the iciness had left her tone she still did not look in his eyes. "I have made myself an evil creature, a wicked, deceitful thing."

"No," Aragorn assured her, "You did what was natural, what anyone would have done in your place."

" _No,"_ Arwen said, eyes glinting with tears. Legolas burst into the room, panting, but Arwen did not cease her confession. "I told you I loved you, would do anything for you, and I won't. I don't."

The words felt like a physical blow to his windpipe. He started choking, gasping for air, while his mind raced for a way to put meaning in these words that were so clearly false. He distantly felt a hand grasp his shoulder and shake him, but he could not stop the dizzying swirl of his mind from sweeping him away.

Then there was a firm grip on his shoulder, a clear voice whispering words into his ear. The voice sounded of sunlight and moonshine all at once, grounding him and setting him free.

" _Estel_ ," Legolas was kneeling before him, face close to his own.

"Legolas," Aragorn said softly, and the grasp on his shoulder lessened as Legolas backed away. Aragorn felt the loss of his friend's - only _friend's_ \- presence keenly, but he did not comment.

"So you truly do not love me," Aragorn said softly, willing the tears away from his eyes.

"I do not," Arwen said, "I searched for a way for you to be immortal with me, but I was lying to myself. It was only ever a passing fantasy, a girl's wishing."

"But you said-"

"And I believed it," Arwen said quietly, sitting on the bed beside him. "But it was not true, my darling."

"Do not call me that," Aragorn stood up swiftly and stormed from the chambers. He could feel pulsing in his mind. How dare she lie to him, then try to soften the blow of losing her love? How dare she pretend like this was better for both of them, like he was not losing his _whole world_? In a rage his sent his fist flying into the marble wall next to him, the connection sending a shard of pain shooting through his arm.

It was nothing next to the pain in his heart. He screamed and threw himself against the wall, beating his shoulder against it, then slamming his head into it. He dropped, exhausted, to the ground and lay there, crying.

The only thing he felt was the soft hand gently brushing his cheek, the smell of rain and earth following him, and the sweet obliviousness of darkness.


	8. Heartbroken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ohhhh no!!! exciting stuff to come in this chapter. not so exciting for some of our characters. but it's fun for me to torture them especially since I think they're so perfect for each other.

Legolas stayed with Aragorn until he awoke. The king was now quiet and distant, almost silent. His face looked as though it had been carved from the side of the mountain. Legolas attempted to make him speak, but he would only give monotonous answers and nods or shakes of the head.

"Legolas, he will heal with time," his father said that night. "First, let us speak with Lady Arwen."

Legolas reluctantly followed his father into her chamber, where she sat staring off into the distance. When she turned, she smiled brilliantly at the two elves, but Legolas did not return the gesture. She was the reason why Aragorn could not speak, why he was so lost in his own thoughts that he could not bother to share them with Legolas.

She was the reason the elf had lost him.

If Legolas thought logically about it, he knew that this was absurd. Arwen had no idea of his feelings for her husband, and it was not her fault that she had not recognized a crush from a love. All the same, Legolas could not help but firmly look the other direction as Thranduil spoke.

"Tomorrow, your father, Lady Galadriel, Gandalf the White, Bilbo Baggins, and Frodo Baggins leave for the Undying Lands of our ancestors," Thranduil began, "Do you wish to join them?"

"Yes," Arwen said with no preamble. The simple words left both Legolas and his father reeling.

"Just like that, you would abandon your promise?" Legolas burst out, "Without a thought?"

"I have already abandoned my promises," Arwen said sadly, "My Aragorn is lost to me. I have nothing left."

"He is no longer _your_ Aragorn," Legolas could not contain his fury. "He is lost to you because you left him! You have nothing left because you pushed everything away!"

"You think I do not know that?" tears were streaming down Arwen's face, "I lost everything because I made a fool's decision with no foresight or emotional knowledge. I did not love him, I do not love him, and I will never love him!"

With that final proclamation, Legolas fled the room, leaving Thranduil in his wake. How could a women who had once seemed so wise throw away something that was infinitely more precious that immortality?

Gimli found him in the courtyard, head in hands. The dwarf plopped down next to him, and lugged a heavy arm across the elf's thin shoulders.

"You care so much about your Aragorn," Gimli said gruffly, aware that the words were not penetrating into Legolas' mind. "You love him, do you not?"

But Gimli was wrong. Legolas could hear every word as clear as day, and the words gave him a shock that sent him reeling.

"How do you know this?" Legolas asked, his face flushing.

"You talk in your sleep," Gimli grinned, " _Oh, Aragorn. Yes! Yes!_ " he imitated poorly. His face now bright red, Legolas shook the dwarf's arm off.

"I do _not_ ," he stated, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And now you look like a pouty little elfling," Thranduil teased, emerging from the shadows. "It is obvious to anyone who beholds the way you look at him, Legolas. Even Arwen."

"So Arwen knows as well?" Legolas did not uncross his arms, "Oh yes, let's all make fun of Legolas for being in love with Aragorn, shall we? Sounds like fun!"

"What?" an astonished voice sounded from the other end of the courtyard. Legolas froze. He knew that voice as well as his own.

"Aragorn," he said, without having to look at the face, "What a pleasant time for you to join us."

His heart and mind were racing, his face again growing uncomfortably warm.

"Legolas - you..." Aragorn stuttered to a close, then turned on his heel and left, cloak sweeping out behind him. Legolas was frozen to the spot, half mortified half devastated. He should not have held out that maybe, _maybe_ , love was possible from Aragorn as well, but his hopes had been shattered with a swish of that cloak. Legolas stood, needing to be alone, to calm himself before speaking.

"My little leaf-" Thranduil reached out to him, but Legolas ran away, faster and faster. He escaped the confines of the palace, wind rippling through his hair, and dashed through the forests of Mirkwood, dodging branches and leaping over logs, until he found what he was looking for.

Past a small bramble of thorns lay a miniature clearing with a brook running past. Legolas lowered himself onto one of the many logs and, for the first time in decades, wept.


	9. Sunset

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing another chapter because I'm an idiot and forgot to update, like, two days in a row. we get a peak into Aragorn's head, and he finally takes it upon himself to stop being so damn confused because no, this is not even close to slow burn, but yes, even as the author I'm impatient for them to get together. I can't help it. I was born this way

Arwen left the following morning, Aragorn, Eomer, and Thranduil with her. The morning was clear and pale, frost covering the small, newly forming petals. The ride was long, but it was easy going and the others left Aragorn to his thoughts.

He did not particularly _want_ to be with those at the moment. Legolas' not-quite confession had left him reeling. He _loved_ him. The elf, who had been his childhood companion, searching for treasure and adventure with him, _loved_ him. The elf, who had followed him on a journey and never once faltered, _loved_ him. The elf, who had stood silently by while watching Aragorn court and marry Arwen, _loved_ him. Legolas _loved_ him, and Aragorn was not entirely sure that he did not return the feelings.

He had always had crushes on Legolas. They would fade, and return, and fade again. Each time they came back they would be stronger than the last and now, with so long of seeing only Arwen's face in his dreams, the crush felt overwhelmingly like love.

But was he only reaching out to the elf in his grief? Did he only want to feel loved, and wanted, and cared for, so he was pretending to love him? He could never hurt Legolas as Arwen had hurt him, could never fake love and later reveal it was all a parlor trick. Thranduil was watching him curiously, but also with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

 _If cin negr- mui réd, im'll belth- cin_ , was the silent, echoing threat. He tried to drown out thoughts of Legolas with the upcoming meeting - the real reason he had come to Mirkwood, but always his mind remembered a blonde elf whose footsteps were as light as feathers and whose smile was brighter than the glittering stars in the sky.

"We are but a mile from the place," Thranduil announced a while later, fracturing an image of Legolas setting a butterfly free. They rode onwards, their pace increased a fraction. Soon, they reached a path, brown stones evenly worn.

"Hobbits were here," Aragorn announced, his time as a ranger taking over his instincts, "And elves."

"Yes," Thranduil agreed, and urged his horse to the front of the party, "Onwards."

He held up a hand when Aragorn could just make out a dock and a boat waiting on the water. The others stopped as the Elvenking rode forwards.

"Lord Thranduil, have you come to join us?" Aragorn heard Lord Elrond's voice and felt a pang of sorrow at his foster father's tone. That gentle, wonderful man would leave Aragorn forever. But Aragorn had other matters to attend to. He bade his stallion to sidle up to Lady Arwen, which Hasufel did.

"Lady Arwen," he hid the turmoil underneath his skin with a vacant expression. "Hold out your hand, please, my lady."

Arwen did, her eyes beseeching him for a flicker of emotion, but he would give her none. He pressed the Evenstar into her warm palm, and then fell back, keeping his face expressionless. He could just make out a single tear trace its way down her cheek before Thranduil spoke.

"I have not come to join you, my good friend," Thranduil replied with some warmth. Aragorn could see the hobbits gaping at him in astonishment and his lips curved slightly. "You know that the Mirkwood elves will not lose their immortality to someone as trifling as men. I am here to bring to you what you lost, and what now seeks to return to you."

Elrond lifted an eyebrow as Arwen rode into the clearing with Aragorn trailing her.

" _Mui -iel_ ," Elrond cried, "Have you come to say goodbye?"

He embraced Arwen tightly, so that Aragorn spoke for her.

"She has come to go with you," his voice was a monotone. The hobbits looked at him in wonder, but Gandalf only gazed on in sadness and- _was that?_ \- knowing. All the matters were laid before Elrond and the hobbits, leaving out Legolas' declaration of love. Aragorn said his goodbyes to Frodo and Bilbo. When he hugged Gandalf, the wizard whispered in his ear,

"I hope you find happiness with your elf," and pulled back with a twinkle in his eye. The expression almost made up Aragorn's mind for itself. The passengers got on the boat, waving farewell. There was not a dry eye. Arwen was the only one not looking back, but ahead at the sky.

The sun had painted colors of red, pink, and gold across the darkening heavens, and their friends sailed away, the ripples barely noticeable from the sleek boat. Aragorn did not continue watching it.

"Come," he said, swinging himself back over his horse, "I have an elf I need to speak to."

 _If cin negr- mui réd, im'll belth- cin -_ If you hurt him, I'll kill you

 _Mui -iel -_ My daughter


	10. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it. the moment you (read: I) have been waiting for. enjoy :)

Legolas swung his bag over his shoulder, Gimli watching him sadly. He pointedly ignored the dwarf, who had tried to talk him out of leaving several times. 'Your father will miss you, elf,' had been the most convincing argument so far, but Legolas stood firm. His replies had always been sprinkled with 'I am always welcome,' 'I'm only gone till Aragorn leaves,' and, 'He'll understand,' but he never quite believed himself.

"Legolas, your father just got you back, he will be devastated when he finds out you've gone," Gimli protested. Legolas was deathly tired, so he only responded with a perfunctory,

"I did not know you knew such long words as 'devastated.'"

Gimli grunted, but didn't continue. Legolas walked slowly through the halls, more than a little reluctant to leave the halls that had nurtured him in his youth.

"Legolas, please," Gimli tried once more.

"We will meet with your cousins under the mountain," Legolas dismissed him, "They know me, and we may pass under the radar for a while."

"Pass under who's radar?" Gimli's face turned redder than usual, "Aragorn's? Legolas, we're not fugitives! You cannot avoid Aragorn forever. If you flee now, you will never have a chance to settle back into an easy friendship."

"I have _never_ had that chance," Legolas whirled around, and though he was looking at Gimli, suddenly all he could see was his own blinding rage. "You have _no idea_ what it is like to love, to long, for something so close to you yet so out of reach. For someone who loves you like a brother, but nothing more. For someone who is so breathtakingly happy and comfortable while every day your heart breaks a little! And then he lost his love and _still_ I could not tell him, could not confront him with this horrible truth. He finds out because of some chance eavesdropping in an elvish courtyard!"

Gimli looked sheepish, "Well, when you put it like _that_...."

However, Legolas was not finished, "You have _no idea_ what it is like to be in love with your childhood friend since almost the moment you met them, and to never enjoy that love reciprocated."

"He might not," a voice behind Legolas said, "But I do."

For the second time in that many days, Legolas looked up, startled, to find Aragorn staring at him. This time, however, the king did not flee and did not look repulsed in the slightest. Legolas froze, his heart pounding wildly with his outburst and the realization of what his love had just said.

"Aragorn, do not tease me," his voice was low and it scratched his throat on the way out.

"I do not tease you," Aragorn's tone was just as rough, right before he swept the elf up into his arms and kissed him. His mouth was rough and yielding at the same time, his stubble gently rubbing against Legolas' face. He tasted like wind and air and _life._ His lips caressed Legolas' own as his tongue brushed against the elf's opening lips. Legolas could feel his hot tongue delve into his mouth and sweep through eagerly, tasting every inch of his being.

They broke away, gasping. Legolas was gaping in Aragorn's arms, and could only turn away from him when he heard a derisive cough behind the king.

Thranduil stood there, a small smile on his face.

"I can see you were planning to leave, _mui-red_ ," the Elvenking said, and there was no trace of disappointment in his voice, "But now I see you have no reason to. Pray, stay awhile, at least until their meeting is over. We will have a feast for all our guests in five hours. Until then, do as you like."

He glided out, pausing at the door of another room and adding, "And I suppose Aragorn will not want to stay in the room he and Arwen were in, but I do not think that I shall have to find him another."

Legolas turned a deep shade of red while Aragorn laughed at his friend's expense.

No, not friend.

Lover.


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the final installment! just to wrap things up... obviously this story has no plot other than their romance but I wanted to conclude with more than just 'they got together the end.' thanks for reading the story!

Thranduil watched as Legolas and Aragorn strolled through the extensive elven gardens. It had been two months since the two had become partners, and they were as inseparable as always. They were talking now, whispering jokes and stories and sweet nothings to each other as they walked.

Aragorn looked furtively around, then plucked a pink flower from a bush and tucked it behind Legolas' ear. Thranduil's son laughed and batted his hand away, but he did not remove the flower.

The two had only grown closer with time, and they had promised to visit Thranduil often and for a long time. The dwarf - Gimli - traveled with them and they had no problem with him at all, Legolas even occasionally preferring his company over Aragorn's, though usually that changed quickly.

Thranduil knew, as the dying sunlight flitted through the trees and the tunes of elvish songs floated by on a breeze, that Aragorn would age and die while Legolas would remain young. When Aragorn moved on from this world, his son would be inconsolable, and Thranduil was already preparing for the heartbreaking day of seeing his son lose his light and his life.

But for now, the two were happy and safe together with no thought of the future but with each other.

And that was as it should be.

Sighing, Thranduil turned from the window and glanced at a jewel beside his bedside, one that had lost his glimmer many a year ago.

"Ah, Siladis, what am I to do then?" he whispered, a pain glimmering in his heart. As always, a warmth settled over him as he touched the jewel. Whether it truly was his dead wife or if it was just his imagination, Thranduil was comforted, and he left the room in higher spirits.

His child was filled with love, and everything would be okay.  
  
  


Far away, still at sea, Arwen wiped a single tear from her cheek as she turned her back on the mortal world she could never return to. On one side were two hobbits who had no regrets, on her other a father who was ready to leave, a wizard who was past his time, and a wise elf queen who knew it was the age to move on.

Taking a deep breath, she let all thoughts of Aragorn, a mortal king whom she had thought she loved, fade away on the dying breeze behind her. She lifted her eyes to the shimmering sight before her, the white beach of the Undying Lands.

Elrond put his arm around her and she leaned gratefully on him, thankful that her father could lend her strength on her final, most important journey.  
  
  


Aragorn and Legolas sat under the hanging branched of a weeping willow, laughing about some joke that was told centuries ago that was no longer funny. When they recovered their wits, burst out laughing at the fact that they had found it humorous at all, and recovered their wits again, Aragorn grabbed Legolas' hand.

Under the gently swaying branches of the weeping willow, with light pink flower petals drifting down around them and a brook bubbling nearby, Aragorn looked deep into Legolas' eyes.

"I love you, _mui mel._ "

"And I, you," Legolas replied without hesitation.

There, deep in the elvish lands, they sealed their love and never lost sight of it in all the long years they lived

 _Muil mel_ \- my love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaand it's over! this is crazy. i rlly enjoyed writing the story so thank you for taking the time to read it. have a good day/week/month/year/whatever.


End file.
